


Nicholas is no Angel

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Category: Hot Fuzz (2007)
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Pre-Slash, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-05
Updated: 2011-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off <a href="http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/8651.html?thread=41419979#t41419979">this prompt at the BBC Sherlock Kinkmeme</a>: <i></i><strike>Sherlock</strike> <b>Nicholas</b> has wings. All his life, they've been fairly small; small enough he can hide them under his coat and no one notices.<br/>But when he falls in love with <strike>John</strike> <b>Danny</b>, they start to grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicholas is no Angel

**Author's Note:**

> So the local Indie Theatre played Hot Fuzz on the big screen, stumbled upon an article on [Cracked.com](http://www.cracked.com/article_18757_5-things-you-wont-believe-arent-in-bible.html) that made me think, and then I saw prompt on the [BBC Sherlock Kinkmeme](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com) and... yeah. Fic. o_O

When Nicholas is born, tiny vestal wings sprout from his shoulder blades, feathers so pale white they're nearly translucent.

The only one who notices is his mother, smiling through the tears in her eyes.

+++

Nicholas is a quiet baby, alert but well behaved. The only times he fussed or cried was when someone he didn't like picked him up.

As he grows into a toddler, he only has to be told once not to do something. Often times he’ll ask why, demanding answers until he is satisfied that there was a logical reason, then he doesn’t do it any more.

He likes clear cut logic, black and white, and thrives under rules.

His Mum, known for being a free spirit, laughs and smooths his feathers, kissing his cheeks and calling him her little angel, saying he glowed, just like his father.

No one else ever mentions his father. No one else knows who he is.

Her last name isn’t ‘Angel’.

+++

His mother passes away when he is barely out of toddler-hood. She was fine, then suddenly she was sick, then she wasn't there.

Her parents raise him. They don’t know what to do with a young child that is suddenly thrust on him, but they raise him the best they can.

They can’t see his wings, and think he is making stuff up when he asks to have his feathers groomed at bedtime.

He learns not to mention it.

+++

Pre-school brings new issues.

Just because no one can _see_ his wings didn't mean he can’t feel it when someone touches them.

His other classmates were usually okay, children are like little flashes of light that temporarily blind him, but adults are bad. Adults have layers with complex emotions, and are completely overwhelming.

Some adults, he doesn’t mind. His mother had felt like light, warm and comforting. His grandparents feel similar, but faded and worn thin from use and age.

A few people feel dark, or bad. Like tar, trying to suck him under.

Most people were somewhere in between, not good or bad, but just uncomfortable.

Nicholas learns not to get too close to people. It is tricky, trying to keep his wings to himself, and from brushing up against other people, but he tries.

+++

Uncle Derek gives him a pedal car when he is five. It’s a symbol of everything that a police officer stood for, black and white, right and wrong, and which side of the law he is on.

Nicholas makes up his mind what he was going to do when he got bigger. Be a Policeman, just like Uncle Derek.

It felt right, satisfying something inside of him that felt like a hunger. The urge to protect people.

... Or trying to, in any case. He gets beat up a lot, but his injuries heal up and fade quickly.

And then Uncle Derek gets arrested for selling drugs to children and things get murky.

After a while, Nicholas figures it out. He’s going to be a Policeman.

But not like Uncle Derek.

A _real_ Policeman.

+++

Nicholas, he learns when he is nine and wants to be a Muppet, means 'Victory of the People'. Or 'Power of the People'.

He takes that as a sign, that he is destined to be a Policeman. The People's Power.

Mrs. Hilshire, from up the road, informs him that there was a Saint named Nicholas as well. He wasn't the Patron Saint of Policemen, that was Michael, but Saint Nicholas watched over the Falsely Accused and Children.

It turns out later on, that Saint Nicholas is also the Patron Saint of a few other things, like Pawnbrokers, Merchants and Prostitutes, but it's the Children and Falsely Accused that sticks with him.

+++

When puberty hits, his classmates have to worry about pimples and their voice cracking.

Nicholas has to worry about the fluffy pinfeathers in his wings falling out. His wings, which have always been tiny, barely stretching out past his shoulders, are suddenly gaining coverts, long white primaries and secondaries. The feathers grow past his waistband, halfway between his elbow and wrist when he stretches his arms and wings out.

They itch constantly, making his wings move and flap at the most inopportune times.

Worse, his classmates start changing around him. Gone are the little flashes of light when he brushes against him, the fleeting cares of the here and now, but they're gaining layers, complexity. Where some children used to be a fuzzy grey neutral, there's now long black streaks of anger and cruelty, or singing light beacons of hope and promise for the future.

He finds out the hard way while saving a female classmate from a guy she was supposed to be tutoring that he's also faster and stronger than his classmates.

He seems to have a boundless supply of energy and channels as much as he can into sports and school work. He's head of the Chess Team, the Debate Club, the Fencing Club, runs constantly in Track and Field, and rides his bike constantly everywhere.

He is respected by his peers, but they're wary of him too. He grows out of step with the people around him and never seems to get it back.

+++

After he finishes his GCSEs and goes into his A-levels, the Military Recruiter begins haunted his steps, trying to get him to join Her Majesty's Armed Forces.

The structure of the Military draws him, but being in the Military most likely means being sent overseas. He can't protect the people around him if he's not nearby.

He goes to Christ Church University in Canterbury once he finishes school, focusing on Politics and Sociology.

Police work is just as much about preventing crime as it solving it. If he can work out ways to stop people from preventing crimes, it will help.

+++

Angels, he learns in a comparative Religion Course, do not actually have wings. It's an extrapolation on the part of artists, starting several hundred years after the death of Christ.

They also don't sit on fluffy clouds, strumming harps all day. That's courtesy of Milton's imagination.

They're Messengers, Warriors, Soldiers. They kill the children of the Egyptians during the time of Moses. They raze Sodom and Gomorrah to the ground. Slaughter Sennacherib's Assyrian troops outside of Jerusalem.

God, being merciful, says go here, talk to these people, kill those over there. Angels have no free will, not like humans.

However, even without wings, they can still fly.

Nicholas has wings, covering his back from shoulder to tail bone, but he still can't fly.

He reads the Bible all the way through, making notes the few times Angels are mentioned. There are two references to beings called the Nephilim, and digging around, he finds them in deleted sections of the Christian Bible, the Biblica Aprocrpha.

The Nephilim are the children of the Sons of God and the Daughters of Men. Half Angel, half Human. Giant men with unstoppable hunger that left the land barren, eating even each other in their starvation.

It’s theorised that Noah’s Flood was to wipe the Nephilim, to keep them from destroying the Earth.

He sets the whole religion aspect aside with a feeling of disappointment. He'd grown up thinking that he'd find his answers for what he was in there, but it's not.

What ever Nicholas is, he's no Angel.

+++

He excels at the Police Academy, breaking and setting records at whatever he does.

When he graduates, he hasn't made any friends, but he's done what he always dreamed of accomplishing.

For the first time that he can remember, he's content.

+++

The first year he's on the streets, he meets someone who can see his wings.

She's mad, dressing a like colourblind bag lady in clean Oxfam cast-offs, but her face is lovely as she pets the side of his face, calling him beautiful.

Luna Scamander, she says her name is. She's magic, a Witch. She calls him magic too as she runs her fingers along the outer edges of his wings. She feels like sunlight over a butterfly filled meadow.

He's reminded of his Mother, for the first time in a long time.

Then her husband joins her, apologising profusely as he ushers her away to join up with their twin sons.

Nicholas never sees her again, but he doesn't forget her either.

+++

However, he does learn to keep his wings tucked under his stab vest after that. If one person can see them, there is a chance other people can as well. Other people that might not be quite as friendly, which makes his wings a detriment to his work.

It itches, at least for a little until he gets used to it. His wings have never interfered with his clothing before and they don't now. Eventually he gets used to the feeling of his wings pressed up against his back and the heavy weight of the vest against them becomes a comforting one.

+++

Nicholas quickly gains the interest of not only his superiors, but the heads of other departments. He's bounced around from department to department, given various roles, 'trying to find the right fit'.

He prefers to be on the street helping people, but he's a crack shot with a gun, with a reputation of keeping his teammates alive in one piece when he's pulled for special missions.

He gets pulled for a lot of special missions.

Until Operation Crackdown, when he's forced to kill an idiot high on something, waving around a Kalashnikov. The idiot would have blown everyone, including himself, to kingdom come if Nicholas didn’t stop him, and he was too high for the non-fatal injuries Nicholas inflicted to slow him down.

He didn't want to do it, and hates the fact that he killed someone. It's like a stain that he can never get rid of, never escape from. In a weak moment, he checks his wings in the mirror, expecting black tips, a black feather, any sign that he’s a murderer.

A few towards the bottom are slightly grayish, but his wings are still white. Still, it bothers him.

He puts his foot down, no more special operations. There are people who train for years, who live for that sort of thing. He has no taste for death.

+++

He meets Janine by accident. There's spilt coffee and his wings flair out in surprise as he attempts to keep his balance and catch her in the same time.

She runs face first into his wings. It's like being blinded by the morning light off a snow covered landscape. She's made of cold, pure logical light.

It's glorious.

+++

Being with Janine is not easy. He loves the feeling of light he gets from being with her, his wings brushing unnoticed through her, but hers is a hard cold light.

Helping people, walking the streets has a greater allure then spending time with her, and things fall apart.

But they're both tired of being alone, and it takes a while for them to both call it quits. “Until you find someone you care about more than your job,” She tells him. “You won't be able to switch off.”

It’s probably true, but he can’t see it happening. Guilty people often make the first move, and Nicholas has more emotion for his job than he does his girlfriend.

His relationship with Janine was starting to cut into his work, which is completely unacceptable.

+++

The worst days of his life are not the ones following being stabbed in the hand by a homeless man dressed as Santa Claus.

It’s the first few days after he’s kicked out of London for being exceptional and banished to Sandford.

He doesn’t want to be there, the Sandford detectives and officers don’t want him there.

It’s a match made in hell.

His locker is filled with apples and insults, his office is in the back alley because the roof leaks, and everyone and their cousin appears to know his business, including the part about killing a man.

The citizens don’t help, they’re friendly enough, but... off. Skewed. Simon Skinner pats his back as they run in the morning, and Nicholas almost stumbles at the feeling, the man feeling like a greasy black oil slick.

The radio reports the crime rate in London is soaring... and he's stuck here.

He has to spend hours chasing a swan.

And as he thinks he's hitting the lowest he's ever been in his life, it gets better in unexpected ways.

+++

His first impression of Danny is not a favourable one. Danny is completely sloshed, attempts to drive, and almost kills him.

And after Nicholas attempts to arrest him, he discovers that not only is Danny a fellow police officer, but the son of Sandford’s Chief Inspector.

In other words, an untouchable idiot. Nicholas may not be politically savvy, but even he can recognise that one.

And then there are the questions. If he’s killed anyone. If he’s done acrobatics with a gun. If people’s heads actually explode if you shoot them right.

He thaws slightly at Danny’s awe of his ticketing Mr. Blower for speeding, wondering if it’s just a lack of proper policing in the town that leads to Danny curiosity. Nicholas warms further after spending almost three hours stuck watching a truly awful production of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ that should count more as an act of torture than watching a play.

It’s not until after they collect a barn’s worth of guns, bombs and ammunition from Old Authur Webbley ’s property that he finally warms up enough to Danny to agree to go to the Pub for a lager. The fact that he can’t switch off doesn’t seem to bother Danny in the least and it’s almost a miracle when he relaxes enough to fall asleep on the couch, sleeping against Danny’s warm bulk.

Danny, he discovers upon waking up and accidentally brushing up against his partner, feels like a giant cloud of fireflies in a moonbeam. He feels innocent, the way that children do, only... more. Bigger. More lights, more sparkles, more of a pure glow.

It’s not a bad feeling at all. It’s one that Nicholas wouldn’t mind experiencing more often.

Years of control keeps Nicholas’ wings tucked tight against his back, so he won’t accidentally brush against Danny again.

+++

It doesn’t work when Danny claps his hand on Nicholas’ shoulder in front of the Andes, filling him with an unwanted warm fuzzy of consolidarity, but for the most part, he’s able to ignore it.

Danny at least, he doesn’t have to worry about watching his back around. It’s a nice feeling.

+++

A few days later he’s exhausted and itchy. His wings refuse to lay flat, and are poking out of the back of his vest, where they are brush against by every person who passes.

He keeps his wings clear of Inspector Butterman for no reason he can figure. He wants to like the man, but every time he’s around the head of the Sandford Constabulary, he feels muted, tired.

With the exception of Danny and Skinner, the people of Sandford are grey, and dull. There’s a few bright spots, Doris is surprisingly bright for all of her naughty innuendo, but the rest are dull, dull, dull, and he curses his wings for revealing it to him.

It’s even more annoying when he looks in the mirror and discovers the reason for it.

Nicholas’ wings, which haven’t grown since he was 18, now reach the back of his hands when he streaches them out.

+++

Every morning, he measures his wings, finding that they’re growing a little bit more each day.

There’s something in Sandford that is making his wings grow. He thinks it might be a defensive mechanism against a silent threat.

It’s just one more thing, a minor annoyance stacked up against a growing pile of bodies.

And he has a feeling who is behind it all.

The man with the greasy black aura, Simon Skinner.

+++

Except the same evidence which points to Simon Skinner absolves him of the crimes as well.

It sends Nicholas into turmoil, there’s no way that Skinner is innocent, not with the oily black impression the man gives off. Yet he can’t prove it.

Danny’s comment to Ms. Paver is what makes everything click and gives him hope again. More than one murderer would explain everything.

Until he explains it to Inspector Butterman, and Nicholas begins to wonder if he’s actually cracking up, if the stress of being kicked out of London truly has messed with his mind.

His wings droop as he passes Danny, and not even the bright bubbly feel of Danny’s aura can cheer him up.

+++

Micheal feels like he should be innocent, light, but there’s a twisted black tendril through him that’s infected him like a cancer. Micheal does not revel in inflicting pain, but he does deprive some sick satisfaction from it.

Which is not a helpful thing for Nicholas to know in the middle of Micheal attempting to kill him.

He doesn’t mean to fire off a snappy one-liner as he takes out Micheal with his Japanese Peace Lily, but thinks with some humour that Danny is rubbing off on him. It’s a surprisingly pleasant thought.

Not as pleasant as running into Danny, standing at his doorway, looking like he were the one hit over the head. He can feel Danny’s protectiveness as Danny tucks his notebook into Nicholas’ pocket, the sparkles of light almost trying to crawl off of Danny and over Nicholas like a defensive barrier.

It’s a heady, warm fuzzy feeling that stays with him the entire time he makes his way to the Castle and confronts the NWA.

The feeling disappears entirely when Danny suddenly re-appears, face dark and grim. Danny’s arm is brushing his wings, his golden glowly sparkles swirling like a hive of angry bees.

He can almost taste Danny’s fear when he turns the situation around, holding a knife to Danny’s throat, but he can’t harm his friend and everyone knows it.

Nicholas runs, the NWA following him, their small lights bobbing in the distance. He falls, confronted with horror after horror in Sanford’s own version of Dante’s Inferno, each corpse grouped according to their ‘sins’.

Their glassy eyes follow him, staring at him accusingly for not figuring it out sooner.

He’s nearly sick as he stumbles out of the catacombs again, the blinking torch lights of the NWA surrounding him.

For once, Nicholas doesn’t know what to do.

And then Danny appears. Danny of the cheesy laugh, the disgustingly cheerfully morbid sense of humour, of the action movies and the sparkling lights. Danny, whose face is as grim as the Reaper’s himself as he plunges his knife into Nicholas’ heart.

As Nicholas sinks to his knees, knife sticking out of his front, he realises it was never his back he had to worry about guarding around Danny.

+++

“It’s _Dad_ , I... I can’t.” The look Danny gives Nicholas is so heartbroken it nearly breaks Nicholas’ own heart, even as desperate hope sings through him. Danny put himself on the line with one childish last magic trick, to save Nicholas, to get Nicholas out of Sandford in the boot of his car.

“It’s _Sandford_ , Nicholas.”

Hope stutters and dies, leaving Nicholas feeling bleak. For better or for worse, this is Danny's home. And he can't leave it.

Nicholas takes the keys from Danny’s outstretched hand, reaching out his wings to brush Danny’s arm. He can feel the some of the glowing lights that make up his best friend flicker and die, dull grey helplessness creeping in.

Part of Nicholas dies with it, leaving him crushed and numb.

As Nicholas drives off, Danny glowing red in the lights of the rear-view mirror, he thinks that for once, the price of uncovering the truth may have been too high.

+++

It’s not until he sees the DVDs in the little petrol station that he begins to feel again, righteous anger enabling him to breathe once more.

Danny has taught him one serious lesson, that police work isn’t about paperwork or proper procedure. It’s all about teamwork. Partners. Watching each other’s backs and taking down the bad guys.

London doesn’t want him.

Sandford wants to kill him.

There’s only one person who he trusts at his side, and come hell or high water, Nicholas is getting him back.

And cleaning up the streets while he’s at it.

+++

By the time Nicholas has taken down the Reapers on the outskirts of town and armoured up at the police station, his wings have grown too large to hide.

They stick through the sides of his backpack, a white wall of feathers that curve high above his head and curve down to his knees. The horse seems to be able to sense them and he has to arch them up and away from his body to keep from spooking the horse.

He almost misses the awestruck look on Danny’s face before he dismounts, keeping an eye on the NWA members littered around the street.

Nicholas spits out the toothpick he’s been chewing on, littering the sidewalk, an offence with a maximum fine of £2500 under S87 of the Environmental Protection Act 1990. He can see the reaction it gets from from the NWA, Ms. Roper practically hissing like a cat at him.

”Morning.” He drawls and all hell breaks loose. Guns appear, bullets start flying and he dives down behind the fountain, returning fire.

The hoodies take out Ms. Paver, who was in the best position to kill him if she knew how to aim her gun, then Danny takes out Ms. Roper with an open car door and the world seems to right itself, just a little bit.

He tosses Danny a shotgun, brushing Danny with the tips of his feathers, matching Danny’s grin as he feels the greyness fade, Danny glowing like a shimmering beacon once more.

Together, they clean up the town.

+++

It’s only after Skinner and Inspector Butterman have been taken care of, and the London Metropolitan Police arrive in the most dramatic way possible that Nicholas can feel himself start to unwind. Danny’s a warm presence next to his side, tucked under the curve of one wing, wrapped up in a light green shock blanket.

Danny’s a bit in shock himself, and Nicholas knows that as soon as the adrenaline wears off, Danny’s going to crash and crash hard. Nicholas hasn’t slept in almost 36 hours and he doubts Danny has either.

When Danny does crash, Nicholas will be right there beside him.

”Come back to London.” The Met implores, the same men who threw him out of his home because he was too good at his job.

Nicholas glances around, at the emergency crews, the ruined model city, then over at Danny next to him, then back up at his former bosses.

Someone’s going to need to stay to clean up this mess, to enforce the moral authority now that Inspector Butterman and the NWA have been arrested.

He can’t leave Danny behind here, and London would eat Danny alive. There’s really only one logical solution.

”I quite like it here.” He says, and Danny looks over and beams at him.

It’s not a lie.

+++

He relaxes once they’re at the station filling out paperwork. Everyone’s hands are going to be cramping after this and he makes a mental note to tell them to soak their hands in bowls of hot water and epson salt to relax the muscles later tonight.

They’ll probably want some painkillers too, everyone’s going to be sore for the next few days after the unexpected action. He makes a mental note to get the kind with anti-inflammatory and stash it in his desk drawer.

Danny’s joke about ‘Manpower’ lightens the whole mood, and Nicholas can’t help but to play along with it. He’s strangely relieved when he's rewarded with a rubbish bin to the head. He’s one of them now, or they’re his, he’s not quite sure which except that it feels good to have a team at his side.

They’ve fought alongside him and chosen to keep him. That means a lot.

Then Tom Weaver appears, aiming a gun at Nicholas, and for once, Nicholas' mind goes blank. He doesn’t even have his stab vest on, feeling safe inside the station now that Inspector Butterman is gone. There’s nothing for him to protect himself with and self-preservation has never been high on any of his priorities anyway.

It’s high on Danny’s. As the blunder-bus goes off, Danny throws himself between the projectiles and Nicholas, taking the bullets meant to kill him.

The sight of Danny at his feet bleeding stirs Nicholas into action, kicking the rubbish bin at Tom Weaver, sending him into the still open Evidence Room. It’s a gross violation of procedure to have it open like that, but he’s been too tired to care. And it’s bloody Sandford, it’s not like anyone’s going to steal anything.

Then the sea mine tilts and starts ticking.

“Oh, no.” Weaver groans, seeing his own eminent demise.

Nicholas starts running, wings flaring out, reaching for his team members. Danny and the rest of his teammates are still in the building, he’s got to save them, got to protect them somehow-

And then the explosion hits.

He’s flying through the air, the force of the fireball sending him forward. He hits something, and everything goes black and distorted for a little while.

Danny’s the first thought on his mind, even as he’s vaguely aware of the rest of the Sandford Police digging themselves out of the rubble of their headquarters, miraculously uninjured for being in an explosion that decimated a building.

He cares, but not enough to tear himself away from Danny, who’s sparkling aura is flickering under his hands.

+++

The Metropolitan Police try one more time to coax him back to London after Danny’s released from surgery. Nicholas keeps one wing draped around Danny the entire time, refusing to entirely release his partner, even as he puts himself physically between the London officers and Danny.

They can’t believe he doesn’t want to return back to London. That something would be more important to him than ‘the job’.

They offer to transfer Danny to London, assign him as his partner on the streets. He steadfastly refuses, recognising it for the manipulation that it is. He’s shown his hand, that he cares about someone, which leaves him vulnerable.

Be a good boy and clean up their mess, or they’ll transfer his partner away.

Inspector Butterman’s already tarnished the Service’s image by being the head of the NWA’s insanity, he doesn’t want Danny to pay for any of the inevitable backlash more than he already has. Being in London would only exasperate it.

Better to keep Danny far away from them, from their games that sent Nicholas out here in the first place.

It’s the Andes who show up and come to his rescue, herding the Metropolitan officers out of the hospital with casual insults and their aggressive bulldog attitude, which is not the least diminished by the fact that one of them is in a hospital gown and the other has enough bandages peeking out of their clothing to be half mummy.

He’s never been as grateful for their passive-aggressive bullshit in his life.

They wink as they pass by, telling him to keep an eye on Danny. No one expects him to be anywhere else than Danny’s bedside, and it’s nice to be exactly where he wants for a change.

+++

Life goes on. Danny is eventually released from the hospital, Nicholas moves into his cottage, and the police station is rebuilt.

They use the old blue prints, to keep with the village's rustic aesthetic, although the entire building is a bit more heavily constructed than the previous one. And they have a shiny new sign out front.

The evidence room is built like a bomb bunker and all the glass in the building is replaced with bullet resistant glass-clad polycarbonate. Just in case.

His wings finally stop growing, but by now they’re too big to even try to tuck out of the way. He can’t help the reflective habit of trying to hide them away though, trying not to touch people with them. Danny helps a lot with that, taking on the habit of standing next, or just slightly behind Nicholas, blocking people from passing behind him.

He spends a lot of time with a wing wrapped around Danny, a silent reassurance that his partner is still there, alive and in one piece.

The few brushes against his wings he does get from various people aren’t as bad as they were previously. Without the stain of Frank Butterman and Skinner infecting the town, people are lighter, brighter. People work hard to make Sandford a great town, not because of the invisible threat of doom that hung over them, but because they honestly want Sandford to be great.

It’s... unexpectedly nice.

+++

Several months later, he spends a day jumping at shadows and growling at every one because of his wings.

His wings don’t itch like they’re growing, but they won’t lie flat either. He's half afraid they've grown to the point that they have a built in warning sensor and spends the day watching over his shoulder for someone to jump out and try to kill them.

Nicholas knows he’s being paranoid and snappish, but he can’t seem to stop, and only hesitantly accepts Danny’s invitation for movies, afraid of taking his paranoid mood out on Danny.

Even the explosions on the television and the press of Danny’s warm bulk, breathing, alive and healthy, isn’t enough to make him snap out of it. He’s just about to excuse himself back to his cottage when Danny rolls his eyes.

”Oh, come here.” Danny snaps, grabbing Nicholas’ shoulders and turning him away from Danny. Danny does something that Nicholas can’t see, and suddenly the irritation is gone as suddenly as it had come.

“You’ve had your feathers twisted around all day.” Danny chides, running his fingers down some of the secondaries, smoothing them out, his sparkling lights more amused than irritable before he pats Nicholas on the shoulder and leaned back against the sofa to resume watching the movie. “Probably slept on them wrong, you silly bastard.”

”Oh.” Nicholas eases himself back against the couch, his wings curling in contentment as he finally relaxes for the first time all day, everything comfortably settling into place. “Thanks, Danny.”

“Anytime.” Danny shoots him a cheerful grin, silently offering him the bowl of popcorn. Nicholas takes some, melting against the couch as he munches on the popcorn, picking up the thread of the storyline again. That’s one of the nice things about most action movies, they’re pretty mindless.

It takes a few moments for his switched-off mind to click back on. “Wait.” He sits forward, wings flaring out behind him as he twists to stare at Danny. “You can SEE them?!”

Danny gives him a look that clearly states that he thinks Nicholas is being an idiot. “Sure. Ever since you first showed up.” He shrugs, turning to look back at the screen. “Didn’t see them at first, they used to only pop out when you were irritated. ’Sides, it’s in your name, innut? ‘Nicholas Angel’. Sandford's own Guardian Angel.”

Nicholas just boggles. “Um... no.” He manages quietly. “I don’t know what I am, but it’s definitely not that.”

“Oh.” Danny thinks it over, then shrugs again, clearly dismissing it as unimportant.

“Danny...” Nicholas struggles to get the words out. “There’s only ever been two other people who could see them.” Two other people who could _touch_ them.

That catches Danny’s attention. “Really?” His voice is muted, tinged with hope and awe.

Nicholas nods, throat tight for no reason he can figure out. “A crazy woman I met once in London.” He says slowly, the words hurting to get out. “And... my mother.”

Danny’s eyes are wide. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Nicholas swallows.

They stare awkwardly at each other for a few moments while a car chase happens on screen. “Why didn’t you tell me you could see them?” Nicholas asks, thinking about all the times he’s casually wrapped a wing around Danny without thinking about it. It’s one thing to do when he thought Danny couldn’t see it, and something completely different now that he knows Danny can not only see them, but feel them too.

“Cause I didn’t think it was important. Didn’t know I was the only one who could see ‘em. Great-Aunt Erma sees ghosts and spirits all the time and no ever thinks that’s strange." Danny mumbles. "And I kinda like it when you did that thing with your wings.”

“Thing?” Nicholas barely manages to keep from squeaking.

”Where you wrap one around me like you’re afraid I’m gonna disappear if you don’t.” Danny’s eyes drop. “S’nice. Like being bathed in sunlight. Never hurt as much in the hospital when you did that. You didn’t seem to notice I that I could see ‘em, and I was afraid you’d stop if you knew I could.”

“Oh.” Nicholas has to swallow again, fighting the lump that’s forming in his throat. “So... it’s okay if I do that then?”

”Yeah.” Danny lifts his gaze to stare at Nicholas, nodding firmly. “Fact, I’d probably be pretty annoyed if you stopped.” He adds with just a hint of nervous teasing smile.

”Okay.” Nicholas slowly nods, then eases himself back against the sofa, curving one wing around Danny like he usually does. This time, because he’s watching, he can see the small shifts Danny makes, wiggling until he’s comfortable and half covered in feathers. He can practically feel the contentment through where they’re touching.

They stare at the television, neither of them seeing it. “Nicholas?” Danny pipes up, voice slightly hesitant.

”Yeah?”

”Does this mean I can touch them sometimes?” Danny looks nervous. “They look pretty, and they’re really nice and soft, but you always act like you’re afraid of people touching ‘em.”

He bites back a comment about how it’s usually painful, or at least annoying when other people touch his wings. “I don’t mind it when you touch them.” He says honestly, aware that his words might be revealing more than he’d like.

The grin he gets from Danny is so bright he’s nearly blinded by it, and the way his aura lights up, the sleepy sparkles spinning in a joyous vortex. “Okay.” Danny says, reaching out and running his hands through Nicholas’ wings, fingers weaving through the smaller coverts on the inside of the wings, smoothing them out.

Nicholas fights back a moan as he slumps against the couch, eyes drifting shut. It feels so good to have his wings groomed by someone else. It’s been ages, and he can’t reach everything.

“Nicholas?” Danny asks nervously.

“It’s good, Danny.” Nicholas assures him, spreading his wings out so that Danny can reach more feathers. “Real good.”

He doesn’t have to look to see Danny’s grin, it’s evident in the tone of his voice and the delight being transmitted through the points of contact with his wings.

A small voice in the back of his head chides that Danny has a secret weapon against him now, that all Danny has to do is preen Nicholas a little and Nicholas will switch off, turning into a mindless lump of goo.

Nicholas really can’t find it in himself to care.

+++

His wings grow a bit after that, then finally stop.

Not too much, just enough that when when they’re curled up on Danny’s sofa, he can completely wrap Danny in his wings, covering them both in a coccon of pure white feathers, the happy glowing sparkles that are Danny wrapping around him in return.

Danny talks him into trying to fly with them. They spend an afternoon out at the barn of some friend/relative/someone Danny knows, jumping out of the top story of the barn, into a large messy pile of hay.

It’s an utter failure. Nicholas is pretty sure he looks like a loon, wings longer than he is tall flapping in the wind as he jumps out of the barn and plummets to the ground, hay getting stuck everywhere like the worst itching powder ever.

But it makes Danny happy, clutching his sides as he alternates between giggles and loud bellows of horse-like laughter. Nicholas gives up after a while and joins him, Danny leaning against him as he gasps for breath.

++++

It’s a slow, pleasing realisation when he finally figures it out, leaning comfortably against Danny. But then he’s never been sharp at anything other police work.

It never was Sandford that made his wings grow.

-fin-

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> _Virtual Cookies for those who spotted the[Harry Potter reference](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Luna_Lovegood)._
> 
> _Article on Cracked.com:['Five Things You Won't Believe Aren't In The Bible'](http://www.cracked.com/article_18757_5-things-you-wont-believe-arent-in-bible.html) (including that Angels don't have wings)_
> 
> _Wikipedia's entry on[Angels](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angel)._
> 
> _[More on Nephilim](http://www.nwcreation.net/nephilim.html)._
> 
> _The Andes chasing out the Met Trio is a reference to heretherebefic's wonderful story[Partners](http://sandfordpolice.livejournal.com/501896.html), which I honestly believe should be canon._
> 
> _[Nicholas Angel's Fact Sheet](http://sandfordpolice.livejournal.com/410515.html) on the [Sandford Police Livejournal Community](http://sandfordpolice.livejournal.com/) has been invaluable. Thank you!_


End file.
